


He Came From Beyond the Grave

by FancyLadMac



Series: Mojave Dreamin' [1]
Category: Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Bilingual Character(s), Bisexual Character(s), M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Polyamorous Character, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 09:23:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20905343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FancyLadMac/pseuds/FancyLadMac
Summary: Parker Bohn was shot by a man in a checkered blazer. This is about his journey towards revenge, engaging in war, and many other adventures.





	He Came From Beyond the Grave

_ “You got what you were after, so pay up.” _

_ “You’re crying in the rain, pally.” _

_ “Ha! Guess who’s wakin’ up ova’ here!” _

_ Parker looked around, dazed, and pulled at his wrists, seeing that they were tied together. There in front of him stood three men: A dark skinned man with a bandana around his head, a light skinned man with an orange mohawk and beard, and a man in a checkered blazer and a quiff. The man in the checkered blazer took a drag from his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with his foot. _

_ “Time to cash out,” The man spoke, stepping forward. _

_ “Would you just get it over with?” The dark skinned man asked. The man with the checkered blazer raised his index finger to silence him. _

_ “Listen, maybe Khans kill people without looking them in the face, but I ain’t a fink, dig?” The man with the quiff spoke, reaching his hand into the breast pocket. He pulled out a round object before putting it in front of Parker. “You’ve made your last delivery, kid.” _

_ “The fuck?” Parker tried asking, seeing the Platinum chip put back in the breast pocket and a gun pulled. An engraved nine millimeter pistol. _

_ “Sorry you got twisted up in this scene. From where you’re kneeling it must seem like an eighteen-carat run of bad luck,” The man in the checkered blazer spoke, pointing the 9mm at Parker’s head, “truth is… The game was rigged from the start.” _

_ BANG! BANG! _

* * *

“You're awake. How 'bout that?” A voice spoke somewhere near Parker’s head. He cracked open his eyes, only to be immediately blinded by the morning sunlight creeping in from the window. He sat up quickly, only to be met with blood rushing to his head, making him dizzy.

“Whoa, easy there! Easy. You been out cold a couple 'a days now,” the voice spoke again, “why don’t you just relax a second? Get your bearings.”

Parker groaned, wiping his face with his hands. _ What the fuck happened? _

“Let’s see what the damage is. How about your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“Parker… Bohn,” Parker spoke slowly, finding his voice. His throat was dry. _ How long was he really out for? _

“Huh… Can’t say it’s what I’d have picked for ya. But if that’s your name, that’s your name. I’m Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings, Parker,” Parker opened his eyes, sat up, and squinted at the man sitting before him. He was an older man, graying all around, wrinkles and laugh lines apparent. 

“Now, I hope you don’t mind, but I had ta go rootin’ around there in your noggin to pull all the bits a’ lead out.” _ Bits of lead? Oh… Right. He was shot. The checkered blazer. _He remembered now.

“I take pride in my needlework, but you’d better tell me if I left anything out of place now,” the doc said, handing Parker a mirror, “How’d I do?”

Parker looked at himself, turning his head every which way, checking for anything out of place. His almond-shaped eyes were still brown. His nose was still slightly crooked, if not a bit scuffed up. Same scarring around his mouth. _ Goddamn did he need to shave. _ “You did good.”

“Well, I got most of it right, right? Stuff that mattered?”

“Yeah.”

“Those sutures that were on your chest, I took them out too. They healed up okay.” 

_ Sutures? Huh…? Oh, those sutures. _

“Thanks Doc.”

“Good, good. Well, no sense in keeping you in bed anymore if you can sit up. Let’s try and get on our feet, yeah?” Doc said, taking Parker’s hands and guiding him to a standing position. He reached to a nearby table and handed Parker his glasses. “Good. Why don’t you walk down to the end of the room? Over by the Vigor Tester machine here.”

Parker took a few shaky steps forward, grateful that Doc Mitchell hadn’t let go of him yet.

“Take it slow, now. Ain’t a race,” Doc said. Parker made it to the machine and leaned on it for support, “Lookin’ good so far, Parker. G’head and give the vigor tester a try. We’ll learn right quick if you got back all your faculties.” Parker took the little joystick in his hand and squeezed it tightly.

** _STRENGTH_ **

** ** _ 5 - Average Joe _

** _PERCEPTION_ **

_ 6 - Alert Coyote _

** _ENDURANCE_ **

_ 4- Handle With Care _

** _CHARISMA_ **

_ 7 - Diplomat _

** _INTELLIGENCE_ **

_ 7 - Smartypants _

** _AGILITY_ **

_ 5 - Under Control _

** _LUCK_ **

_ 7 - Lucky 7 _

“Yep. That’s a pretty standard score there. But after all you’ve been through, I’d say that’s damn great news.” Doc said, looking over at the screen.

“Well, we know your vitals are good. But that don’t mean them bullets didn’t leave you nuttier’n a Bighorner droppin’. What do ya say you take a seat on the couch,” Doc said, leading Parker into the next room, “We’ll go through a couple questions. See if your dogs are still barkin’ alright. I’m gonna say a word and I want you to respond with the first word that comes to mind. Sound good?”

“Sure, Doc.”

“Dog.” 

“Cat.”

“House.”

“Shelter.”

_ What the hell is this going to tell Doc? _

“Night.” 

“Dream.” 

“Bandit.”

“Stab.” _ Easy enough. _

“Light.”

“Torch.”

“Mother,” Doc then said. Parker took in a sharp breath.

“Human shield,” Parker responded, no emotion on his face. Doc Mitchell was taken aback at the statement, but didn’t press on it.

“I’m not going to ask questions, but I’m sorry you feel that way. I’m gonna read you a few statements and I want you to say how much they sound like something you’d say.”

“Got it.”

“Conflict just ain’t in my nature,” Doc started.

“Disagree with that.”

“Alright, next one; I ain’t given to relyin’ on others for support.”

“Disagree.”

“I’m always fixin’ to be the center of attention.” _ Fuckin’ gross, no thank you. _

“Strongly disagree.”

“I’m slow to embrace new ideas.”

“Strongly disagree.”

“I charge into dealin’ with my problems head-on.”

“Agree.”

“Last thing we’re doin’ and I’ll send ya on your way. I’m gonna show you some pictures and I want you to tell me what they look like,” Doc Mitchell said, pulling some canvases from the nearby shelf.

_ Thank God… _

“A broken chain,” Parker said about the first image.

“Too embarrassed to say what that one looks like,” regarding the second image.

“Two bears high-fiving,” regarding the last one.

“Well, that’s all she wrote, Parker. I got one more thing for you to do. Just a form to fill out so I can have a sense of your medical history,” Doc said, handing Parker a form. He had it done in five minutes. Doc Mitchell handed Parker a Pip-Boy 3000 and a blue and yellow bodysuit with the numbers ‘21’ stitched on the back.

“I had one of these, years ago. I was one of them vault dwellers as a kid. I don’t have much use for it anymore. The vault suit is so the locals don’t think you lack modesty. Wasn’t my style anyway.”

“Thanks for patchin’ me up, Doc. Don’t know how I can ever repay you,” Parker said, holding his hand out to the man.

“You can repay me, by not dyin’ out there before it’s your true time to go,” Doc said, shaking Parker’s hand and leading him to the door.

“Was there anything left for me, Doc?” Parker asked.

“Yeah, actually. Stop by the saloon and talk with Sunny Smiles, she’ll be able ta help you out with everything. Some of the other folk might be able to, too. And the metal fella, Victor, who pulled you out of your grave. And before I forget,” he said, walking off and grabbing a box full of things, “one of the locals found all this stuff next to your grave and figured it all belonged to you.”

_ Stims, bag of caps, binoculars, armor, shotgun, 10mm, canteen, machete, doctor bags, repair kits, a note, and a shitload of ammo. Seems about right. _

“Thanks for fixin’ me, Doc.”

“It’s what I’m here for, kid.”

  


* * *

  


When Parker walked into the saloon, he was met with a dog barking in his face.

“Cheyenne, down!” A blonde woman commanded. The dog growled lightly before sitting next to her owner. “Sorry about that, I’m Sunny.”

“Parker.”

“Didn’t think that you’d ever come out of the Doc’s house alive.”

“I’m surprised I did. Doc said you could teach me how to survive out here?”

“Yeah, there’s probably a thing or two I can show ya. Wouldn’t be surprised if those bullets caused you to forget some things. Meet me out back, I can show ya some things.”

“Good plan.”

“Here’s a varmint rifle and some ammo. Shoot at the bottles, see if gettin’ shot in the head fucked with your shot.”

Parker loaded the rifle and looked down the sights, aiming for a bottle on the far left. He took a shot, the bullet going past the bottle by a long shot.

“Fucking Christ,” Parker swore under his breath.

“Try crouching, it’s more stable,” Sunny said. Parker went down on a knee and aimed at the bottle again. “Squeeze the trigger, don’t pull it. And breathe out when you fire.” Parker took a second shot, this time he got it.

“Good job, Parker!” Sunny said, patting Parker on the back.

Parker took a few more shots, getting most of the bottles. Sunny mentioned something about some geckos that were messing with the water pumps. He went and helped her out with it and she showed him how to make healing powder in exchange for his help.

* * *

It was around 4 p.m. and Parker decided to head to the saloon and get something to eat before heading out towards Primm. Victor had told him that’s the way the man who shot him had gone.

“I’m done being nice. If you don’t hand Ringo over to us soon, I’m going to get some friends and we’re burning this town to the ground. Got it?” A man in a bulletproof vest with the acronym ‘N.C.R.C.F’ painted on the back said to Trudy, the barkeep.

“We’ll keep that in mind. Now if you’re not going to buy something, get out,” Trudy said sarcastically. The man turned to head out before staring at Parker.

“The hell is your problem, Vault boy?” He spat as he shoulder-checked Parker before leaving.

“What’d I miss?” Parker asked, taking a seat at the bar. Trudy sighed, running a hand down her face before making her way to stand in front of him.

“Looks like we got ourselves into something we want no part of. About a week ago or so, this man named Ringo came into town. Said he was a survivor of some attack and needed a place to hide from some bad men. We figured the poor guy was in shock and gave him a place to lie low for a while. Didn’t expect anyone to come after him.”

“And I take it that dude was the man he was running from?”

“Precisely. He’s a convict without the chains. Said his name’s Cobb. They call themselves the ‘Powder Gangers’.”

“Powder Gangers? Who the hell are they?”

“A chain gang the NCR brought in from California to work on the rail lines. Turns out giving a bunch of convicts dynamite and blasting powder isn't the greatest idea in the world. There was a breakout not too long ago and some of ‘em decided to stick together to cause trouble.”

“Why not just shoot ‘em and call it a day?” Parker asked, hinting that he wanted some trouble.

“Murder him? That’s not our way, even if he’s scum. He can threaten us all he wants,” Trudy responded, digging behind the bar and grabbing a dirty glass and a rag.

“Where’s this Ringo guy now?”

“Holed up at the abandoned gas station by the hill,” She said as she started to wipe the glass down. Parker hummed in response, putting his chin in his hands. _ Might go pay this guy a visit. _

  


* * *

  


Parker stayed for a bit so he could eat and went up the main road to the Poseidon Energy gas station. When he walked into the old gas station, he was met with a gun in his face. _ Not again. _

“Who the fuck are you and why are you here?” The man asked, flicking the safety of his gun off. 

“I could ask you the same thing, man,” Parker said, raising his hands, palms open facing the man.

“You with them Powder Gangers?”

“Buddy, I just woke up after being near dead. Have no idea who they are. Drop the gun before you make this shit worse,” Parker threatened. The man lowered his gun.

“Sorry. You caught me off guard. I’m Ringo,” he said, holding his hand out. Parker held his out and they shook hands.

“Parker. Ya know there’s a guy named Cobb lookin’ for you?”

“Yeah, but I hear he’s afraid I’ll shoot his head through the winda’ when I see him. He’s right. I’ll have a bigger problem when his buddies show up. I won’t be able to take them down in a gunfight by myself.”

“I can talk with the townspeople and see if they’d be willing to help you. They want those Powder Gangers gone just as much as you,” Parker said.

“That’d be fantastic.”

“You lay low here and I’ll come back around when I’ve talked with Sunny. And here,” Parker said, tossing a Stimpak at Ringo, “just in case.  


“Thanks man.”

Parker nodded as he turned around and left, making his way back into the town to find Sunny.

* * *

Parker had Sunny, Easy Pete, Doc Mitchell, Chet, and the entire town on board to help Ringo get out of his… debt, with the Powder Gangers. 

It was late in the night and Parker was back up in the Poseidon station with Ringo. Ringo had tried to show him how to play Caravan, but that ended with Parker getting frustrated and not talking to Ringo for a couple of hours.

“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” Ringo asked. Parker looked up from his Pip-Boy.

“In a few hours I’m gonna get Easy Pete and set up some explosive traps around the perimeter of the town. I might set some of my own traps up near the main entrances but I haven’t decided on that yet. I don’t think these guys are smart enough to sneak around undetected.”

“You’re probably right. I wouldn’t exactly call ‘em smart,” Ringo laughed.

“You should sleep, Ringo. I’ll keep watch,” Parker said, noticing the tired look in the other man’s eyes.

“But what about you? You gotta sleep too, bud.”

“I’ll be fine. I slept long enough when I got shot,” Parker spoke softly. Ringo didn’t say anything, simply nodding in Parker’s direction.

“I understand. Wake me if you see anything shifty.”

“Will do. G’night.”

“Night,” Ringo yawned, throwing his thin blanket over himself and turning over to face the wall. Shortly after he rolled over, Parker heard soft snoring coming from the other man. He pulled his binoculars from his bag and peeked out the window, looking at the main entryway into the town. In the very far off distance, he could see flickering light from a campfire.

“Hmm,” Parker whispered. He grabbed his pistol and double-checked that it was loaded before heading out of the gas station. He made his way closer to where the campfire was at and crouched by a bush and looked through his binoculars. There were a few men sitting around the fire with bulletproof vests on that had ‘N.C.R.C.F’ painted in neat military font on the backs. There were a few crates sitting by a makeshift tent. One of them was open and Parker could see sticks of dynamite.

Parker snuck closer the Powder Gangers’ camp. 

“Y’all wanna hit ‘em now? They gotta have Ringo man,” one of them said, taking a sip out of a beer bottle and passed it to the one next to him. 

“Nah man. That weird Vault kid is still there and he’s too shifty.” _ Fuck. _

“Who the hell cares?”

“The answer is no. Not changin’.”

Parker snuck over to the crates and peeked into one of them. There were stacks of ammo cases inside, the ones on top were missing lids. .357 ammo rounds were the most prevalent of ammunition in the boxes. Parker carefully reached in and grabbed three of the boxes of ammunition before going into another open crate and grabbing a big handful of the dynamite sticks that were neatly wrapped together. He quietly scuffled away and walked backwards into a far enough distance where he wouldn’t be heard. He found a hollowed out rock and shoved everything he had grabbed inside of it before sneaking back over and grabbing a couple more boxes of ammunition.

He had managed to stash about six or seven boxes of the .357’s and four bunches of dynamite before deciding he’d taken enough to hopefully ruin their chances of succeeding with their attack. 

On his way back into town, he placed some tripwire traps along the main entrance; attached to some light explosives, of course.

* * *

It was around 10AM when someone shouted that they saw the Powder Gangers on the horizon. Parker sprung into action, taking a position outside the Saloon; Ringo to his left, Sunny and Cheyenne to his right. Trudy and Chet were positioned inside their respective businesses, peeking out windows. Earlier that morning, Easy Pete had helped Parker set up better explosive traps along the main stretch into town. Pete stuck around between the Saloon and the general store, the stolen cases of dynamite sticks close by. Doc Mitchell stayed up in his house, his varmint rifle sticking out of a window. The townsfolk that didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire stayed locked in their homes. Others were scattered about the town.

“Ringo! At long last,” Joe Cobb shouted as the Powder Gangers approached the town. _ Still too far from the trips… _

“You’re not welcome here, Cobb,” Parker spoke, stepping forward, “so fuck off.”

“Who the fuck do you think you’re talkin’ to Vaulty?” Cobb said. _ Christ, he’s still wearing the fucking suit. _

“You, apparently. Unless you got a ghost following you with the same name.”

“Very funny,” Cobb laughed. Parker shrugged.

“Guess I’m something of a comedian.” The Powder Gangers started to spread out, some stepped forward, still not close enough to the trip wires. 

“I’ll wipe that fucking grin off your face, Vaulty!” Cobb yelled.

“You’ll have to come here to do it, then.” 

The Powder Gangers rushed forward, hitting the tripwires and setting off the explosive traps. They shouted in surprise but continued to rush Goodsprings. Parker took pot shots aimed for Cobb before he also rushed towards them. A couple of the Gangers dropped after well-aimed headshots from Sunny. 

Parker got rushed by Cobb, who grabbed his gun out of his hand and threw a punch at Parker’s jaw. The punch knocked Parker to the ground. 

“Augh, motherfucker!” Parker exclaimed, kicking his legs out and hooking them around Cobb’s, pulling Cobb to the ground. Cobb’s gun got flung out of his hand from being pulled down.

“I’m gonna kill you, Vaulty!” Cobb shouted, spinning around and climbing on top of Parker, straddling his torso. He wrapped his hands around Parker’s throat and pushed down harshly. Parker cried out and reached his hands up to pull at Cobb’s hands, shoving his fingers underneath in an attempt to loosen Cobb’s grip.

“Sun-Sunny!” Parker tried to call out. He whipped his head around, trying to find anything he could use to knock Cobb off of him. Cobb was up too high on his torso for Parker to try and kick him off. He spotted Cobb’s pistol close by and reached for it. His fingers were barely brushing it. _ Fuck just grab it! _

“You tried to save them, Vaulty but you failed.” Cobb growled. Parker was feeling light-headed and he truly was feeling the air fighting to stay in his lungs. He managed to pick into a groove of the gun with his nails and pull it closer to him. He took the gun into his hand, cocked it and shoved it under Cobb’s jaw, firing. Cobb’s hands released and his body fell on top of Parker’s, blood pouring out of the bullet hole and his mouth, seeping into the Vault suit.

Parker gasped, breathing in as much air as he could take. He coughed and reached up to rub at his throat.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ that was way too close,” Parker coughed. There was still gunfire going off around him, he looked to his left, seeing the townspeople still firing at other Powder Gangers. His vision was wonky from being choked and his glasses had flown off his face when he got punched. He shoved Cobb’s body off of him and sat up, spotting his glasses near his gun. He grabbed them and put them on before grabbing his gun and taking crack shots at a couple Powder Gangers that were getting too close to Chet’s store.

The fighting died down shortly after the other Powder Gangers realized Cobb was dead. Those that didn’t flee, were shot by Parker and Sunny with a little help from Cheyenne. 

Parker, along with Victor and Easy Pete, dragged the bodies of the dead Powder Gangers up the hill into the cemetery. With some well placed small bombs, the digging of a mass grave was a short effort. Easy Pete said a small prayer for the souls of the Powder Gangers, something Parker did as well to appease the man.

Trudy and Chet offered him discounts at their respective businesses but Parker declined the offer.

_ "Just doin' what was right." _ He said to them. Trudy offered for him to rest up in her home before he took off towards Primm, which he did accept. She cooked up some Brahmin with extra spices and had a spare Sunset Sarsparilla. The bottle cap had a bright blue star on the underside of it, which Parker had seen before, he couldn’t remember where, but still found neat.

That night, after Trudy and the rest of the town had long since gone to bed, Parker was still awake rolling the star bottle cap between his thumb and forefinger and going over what the plan was for after he left Goodsprings. He had to run through Primm to get a whereabouts of the guy who shot him. Hopefully it’d just be a straight shot from there to wherever the dude is.

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> sorry if this is too short of a chapter or not descriptive enough. I've been sitting on this chapter for a very long time because i wanted it to be good. this story will feature the New Vegas DLC's and mention my lone wanderer and my OC from my story Heavy Lies the Crown.
> 
> Also apologies if the vigor tester results are wrong, I based them off of my actual Courier's stats and I have the New California mod installed which changed things.


End file.
